


The Art of Baking

by StandBehindHouseStark



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, it's very brief i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 11:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandBehindHouseStark/pseuds/StandBehindHouseStark
Summary: Just a quick, fluffy ficlet I wrote on Tumblr. Inspired by the prompt "Sansa comes back home to see the mess Jon had made in her kitchen trying to cook for her." that I got from the OTP Prompt Generator.





	The Art of Baking

Jon had made a mess of things. Which, to be fair, he did quite often, but he had really screwed up this time. He had been planning to surprise Sansa by having one of her favorite lemon cakes ready for her when she got home. But it turned out he was definitely not a baker, and now the only surprise she would come home to was her kitchen looking like a bomb had went off in it.

Today was her first day at a new job and Jon couldn’t be more happy for her. It had been almost 5 months since Sansa showed up at his door with a cut on her cheek and bruises littering her wrists. The only thing that had stopped Jon from stomping that Joffrey prick was Sansa pleading that she needed him to hold her, not go to jail for her. When she’d broken things off with Joffrey, however, she had also lost her job at Lannister Publishing not even a week later. So when Sansa told him she’d found a job at an even bigger publication, Jon wanted to do something to celebrate.

Lyanna Snow and Ned Stark had been dear friends since childhood, and Ned did all he could to ease her struggles with being a single mother. So while the Stark household was practically Jon’s second home growing up, he and Sansa had never been particularly close before that awful night. Now the two were practically inseparable; whenever he went over to Sam and Gilly’s for dinner he would invite Sansa. If there was a new play or romcom that Sansa wanted to see, she would drag Jon along. The two would walk their malamutes, Ghost and Lady, to the park together. And at least twice a week Jon would come home from work to find Sansa had let herself in and cooked him dinner, which is where the idea to bake something for Sansa had came from.

_It can’t be that hard,_ Jon had thought.

Lyanna’s lemon cake was a hit at every big Stark family gathering, and while Jon had never actually baked a cake before, he had watched his mother make this very cake a thousand times growing up. He was feeling confident. He had one of Sansa’s aprons on, he’d gathered all the ingredients he needed, and he began mixing.

Jon learned very quickly that he was not cut out for baking.

As he was pouring the flour into the sifter, he sneezed; the sudden jerk of his arm sent the powder flying everywhere. Everything from Jon’s apron, to Sansa’s very nice hardwood floor and granite countertops received a hearty coating of the substance. No matter, Jon hummed to himself. I can clean that later. So he moved on. And, naturally, once he got to the eggs he had hit the last egg too hard against the outer edge of the mixing bowl. Yolk instantly spilled out of the fractured shell and added to the mess.

Jon groaned and picked up the mixing bowl to move it to the other side of the kitchen so he could clean. But because bad luck comes in threes, Lady had chosen that exact moment to check what Jon was up to. The bump of her snout against his hip startled him, and Jon dropped the bowl full of half-mixed cake batter right onto the floor, narrowly missing the light gray dog.

Lady, however, immediately lost interest in Jon’s misfortune and bounded over to the front door, tail wagging. And that’s when Jon heard the lock turning. _Well, shit. I’m dead_. Jon cringed and readied himself for his fate. _Sansa is the tidiest person I know, and I’ve just covered half her kitchen in cake batter_.

Sansa walked through the door and her eyes widened at the scene on the other end of the hallway. Jon was frozen in place, standing in the middle of the kitchen wincing almost painfully.

“Uh, hey Sansa… You’re home early.” Jon managed to stammer out, instantly flushing when he saw her.

Sansa blinked in confusion. “Yeah, today was mostly orientation stuff, they didn’t need me for the full day. What on Earth happened here?” She chuckled, seemingly more amused by Jon’s floundering than concerned about the mess.

“Well, I was baking you a lemon cake, like the ones my mom makes… Trying to at least.” Jon answered more surely now, assured that Sansa wasn’t angry with him.

Sansa arched an eyebrow and hummed in approval. She shrugged her coat off and sauntered towards him. “And was this going to be a ‘will you go out with me?’ cake that you were baking?” Sansa purred once she was half a step in front of him.

Jon gulped.

“No! I mean… uh, not exactly. I just wanted to do something to celebrate your first day.” Jon was getting more and more flustered now. “…Unless you wanted me to ask you on a date?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for a while now.” Sansa was beaming at him now. “I was going to give you to the end of the week before I asked you myself.”

Jon grinned sheepishly. “I think you just did.”

“I guess I did.” Sansa stated matter-of-factly and giggled.

“I just… I know these past few months have been pretty rough. I didn’t want you to feel like I was swooping in, or expecting something from you.”

Sansa smiled softly and lifted Jon’s throughly-floured apron over his head before pulling him in for a tight hug.

“I know, Jon.” She said into his shoulder. “Things were bad after him, but you helped me pull myself out of it. You’ve made me so happy, just when I wasn’t sure if I could be again.”

Jon pulled her in tighter. “You’ve made me happy too, Sans.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling away. “I have to get out of my work clothes, and then I’m going to teach you how to actually bake a cake, Mr Snow.”

“Sounds good, Ms Stark.” Jon chuckled, and then looked around him, taking in the mess he had forgotten about. Embarrassing him all over again. “I’ll get all this cleaned up in the meantime.”


End file.
